


Shipwrecked

by I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins



Series: In Darkness Lies the Truth [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:50:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins/pseuds/I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sisters Maurevar and Bethany Hawke are fleeing the Blight with their new acquaintance, Aveline. Life in war-torn and blighted Ferelden wasn't easy, but life aboard their ship comes with a new set of challenges. As Maurevar resorts to theft & Bethany finds herself developing feelings for the recently widowed Aveline, the sisters find themselves tested as never before.</p><p>Meant to be read before 'A Tale of Two Hawkes' and 'In Dreams They Come'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Graymalkyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkyn/gifts), [FenZev](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenZev/gifts).



9:30 Dragon

 

The ship rocked violently, causing Maurevar Hawke's stomach to clench in pain. The hold stank of stale sweat, vomit, and corpses. A mother and child had starved to death a few weeks ago. The bodies were bloated and blistered, half-hidden in the shadows. Fluid oozed from the mouth and nose. The smell filled the room and Maurevar was sure she was going to vomit if they stayed cramped like this much longer. She wanted to escape to up top but the refugees weren't allowed. The captain said they'd get in the way.

Hawke stood up and mumbled to Aveline about getting some fresh air. She nudged her sleeping sister off her shoulder. Bethany yawned and moved her head over to Aveline, instead. "Be safe, Mar," she said sleepily.

"Mmm. I'll try not to fall off the boat and drown, Sister dearest," Hawke replied, whispering as so not to wake the others.

Bent over low, she slowly made her way to the ladder. Running from Templars all her life, she knew how to sneak around nearly as well as any rogue. She tip-toed up the ladder, the splintered wood pricking the skin on her hands. She lifted the hatch so a small fraction of light shined through and looked around for any of the sailors. Seeing one to the left she took a small pebble from her pocket and tossed it away from her.

The man startled at the sound. "Another damn mouse? Maker cursed things," he grumbled, moving hastily to look.

Hawke carefully snuck from her hiding place and dipped back into the shadows. She inhaled deeply, her nostril immediately filling with the salty-sweet smell of the sea air. Her belly let out a treacherous grumble, proving that one loaf of bread, split between three people, was not enough to fill her for a day.

Gathering her mana, she called up a wisp and sent it ahead to distract any sailors. Grinning mischievously to herself, Hawke crept towards the galley.

"Sneaking around up top again, Hawke?" whispered a voice in a familiar Antivan accent.

She froze momentarily before turning around, an easy smile in place. "Ah, Tristan. For a moment, I almost thought I was caught," she drawled lazily.

He smiled in return and joined her. "Well, I guess I'm not much of a seaman, letting our passengers roam the deck and knick food from our galley," he replied with a grin.

Hawke snickered. "How gracious of you to allow me such luxuries as petty theft and minor magic use."

Tristan smirked, a quick upturn of his very full lips. Hawke stared for a moment, once again drinking in the sight. He was a good-looking man: he was built well in the shoulders and his jawline was covered with a rough patch of dark black hair. His hair, the color of pure obsidian, hung lazily in his eyes which were such a dark blue they looked like the night sky. He looked like he was made of shadows.

When Hawke had first reached the port city of Gwaren with her sister and Aveline in tow, Tristan had been begging Captain Roland to hire him on. The ship was already full and her crew set up but Tristan had been insistent. He even offered to work for a smaller pay than the others.  _Poor bugger. Probably just wanted to escape a blight-ridden Ferelden and return to Antiva._

Aveline had done a little convincing of her own, mostly with glaring and flexing her sword arm, and got them passage on The Clara as well. Hating being cramped down below with so many strangers, it wasn't long before Mar snuck out and was quickly caught by the rookie sailor as she called up a wisp. She was surprised but grateful for his promise to keep her secrets and found herself sneaking out, in part, to see him.

"If I ousted you now, who knows what sort of dangerous blood magic you might do in retaliation? I wouldn't want to become your first victim, would I?" he teased lightly, his thick accent sending shivers down her spine. Mar had a weak spot for a pretty face and smooth accent.

Hawke smiled and pressed a finger to her lips as she silently pushed the galley door open. Tristan kept a look-out as she quickly nicked a flask of water, a half loaf of moldy bread, and a bit of salted meat. Satisfied with her finds she snuck back to where Tristan was waiting.

He winked at her when she arrived and they both slipped back into the shadows together. "The way you sneak about, I'd almost think you were more than a rookie sailor," she said.

Tristan stopped from a moment and looked at her quizzically. "And what else would I be, Lady Hawke?" he asked mischievously.

Maurevar pouted her lips and faked an innocent look. "Hmm, I don't know. Maybe you're one of the infamous Antivan Crows on a mission?"

Tristan chuckled and shook his head gaily. "Ah, what a sad mission this is: spying a ship full of Ferelden farmers fleeing the Blight." He reached down and lifted the hatch for her. "Don't let any of the other passengers see your goods. I'd hate to have to rescue you from a horde of hungry peasants," he said with a lavish bow.

As Hawke nudged her sister and Aveline awake she thought of Tristan and what his plans would be when they docked in Kirkwall. She knew it was folly to think he might follow them; since she and her sister were apostates they would constantly be on the run. She handed out the ill-gotten food and sighed to herself. Such was the life of any mage born who chose to remain free. A Circle would be too dangerous from someone with Bethany's special skill and Hawke valued her ability to roam. It was a shame though: Tristan had such a rugged handsomeness to him. At least she had a friend aboard ship.


	2. Chapter 2

Bethany shifted quietly beside Aveline. It was midday but she couldn't see the sun. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what the sun felt like again, beating down so hot on her fair skin. Maker, she wanted to see daylight again instead of being trapped in this cursed hold with a hundred other sweaty, angry passengers. She wasn't even sure she could call them passengers, they felt more like prisoners. They were given nothing but stale bread and water all day and no one was allowed on the main deck. It was cramped and noisy and Bethany hated it. She envied Mar. She was daring enough to sneak around like a rogue, stealing food and water.

She heard Aveline grunt next to her. "You're awake now, Bethany? My shoulder's gone numb from you sleeping on it."

Bethany mumbled an apology to the warrior and moved over an inch to give her some more space. She didn't know what to make of the ginger-haired woman next to her. Her husband had been a Templar and she was a warrior of the King's army. Aveline _should_ want to turn her in but she had sworn she would not reveal that the Hawke sisters were mages. She was stoic but loyal and Bethany was grateful to have her around. She knew Mar would protect her but she also knew Mar would get them into trouble, sooner or later. Aveline was the type of person who would hopefully guide Mar to be more cautious. Bethany almost laughed out loud at the thought of her bold and reckless sister taking any sort of precaution.

Bethany sighed. She was tired, having been tormented by horrible dreams all night, but she was afraid to try to nap. She shivered, thinking of the demons that had haunted her dreams last night. They were always there, waiting for her to sleep. Whispering to her about deals and how they could rule all of Thedas together. She didn't want that, though. She just wanted a quiet life with her family. A quiet life without magic. Fat lot of chance that had of ever happening. She was stuck with her magic, whether she liked it or not. All she could do was only do good things with her magic and fight the demons with every bit of strength she had. That's why she took up healing, like her father. She would only heal people and never harm them. She had promised her father and Bethany always kept her promises. It didn't matter what special abilities the Maker had cursed her with. She was determined to do good.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and handed her the day's ration: a half-rotten apple, half a loaf of moldy bread, and a small flask of water. She sighed and passed it on to Aveline; she wasn't feeling very hungry anyway. Aveline shook her head ruefully at the meager ration and bit cautiously into the apple. Her face quickly twisted into a grimace and Bethany could tell she was trying not to spit out the food.

Aveline swallowed the bite of apple and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Flames. This is ridiculous. They can't really expect us to stay in this stinking hold all the time, can they?" she grumbled. "I'm going to try to talk with the Captain. Where is that sister of yours?"

Bethany shook her head and looked around, searching the crowd for Mar. "I don't see her anywhere. I wonder if she's with that sailor, again." Bethany furrowed her brow in worry. Something about Tristan seemed off, somehow, to Bethany. She didn't trust him. She tried to tell her sister but Mar just told her she had it under control. Mar was smitten by his good looks but Bethany wasn't fooled. That man was hiding something, she just didn't know what.

Aveline stood up and tried to stretch, bumping her head on a low beam. She scowled and rubbed her head. "You coming along, Bethany? Maybe if we offer to work they'll let us some freedom."

Bethany sighed and nodded as she slowly got to her feet. She trusted Aveline to not make trouble and maybe gain them something in the process. Quietly, she walked behind the taller woman and her thoughts drifted to Carver. He had abandoned them to become a Grey Warden and now he was probably dead with all the other Wardens at Ostagar. If he had survived, why didn't he come to them? Why didn't he warn them? They waited so long for him to return, too long in fact. If they hadn't waited then maybe they wouldn't have ran into the ogre. Bethany felt tears welling up in her eyes and blinked them back. She knew her mother wouldn't want her to cry forever over her death and now Leandra could be with her husband, again. Now, at least, her father wouldn't be lonely. Leandra would be glad to be by Malcolm's side again; she'd been depressed ever since he had died a year ago.

Bethany shook her head to clear her troubled mind. She followed behind Aveline as they climbed the rickety ladder that led to the main deck. Bethany smiled as the sun hit her face; it had been weeks since she had seen sunshine. She looked around at the men; they were all young and more than a bit grimy. She tried not to grimace as they leered at her and whistled as she walked by. She heard Aveline growl as the older woman grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. Bethany ducked her head, her pale cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink as she let Aveline lead her to the Captain's quarters.

"Sailors are nothing but trouble, Bethany. Be wary of them," Aveline said as she rapped her knuckles on the oak door.

Bethany nodded and straightened her dress robes. They were made to seem like a normal dress but had hardened leather hidden underneath the dark crimson fabric. "Thank you for protecting me, Aveline. You're very kind."

Aveline just grunted in reply as Captain Roland opened his doors. He glared at the two of them and Bethany gulped. The Captain was a very gruff man and older than the rest of his crew. His dark gray beard had bits of food clinging to it and his blue eyes were watery and beady, like a rat. He scared Bethany but Aveline was much braver. Bethany was certain nothing could frighten the bold warrior.

Captain Roland scratched his arse and continued to glare. "What in blazes do ye want? Yer suppose ta be down in the hold with the others. Or did ye come ter check on that friend of yers?"

Bethany's eyes widened in fear. "Friend? You mean my sister? Where is Maurevar?"

A hand gently touched her shoulder as a voice spoke from behind. "She was caught this morning. She's being... taught a lesson." The last three words were said with a bit of growl, like the speaker was angry with what the lesson was.

Bethany spun around and looked the man in the eye: it was Tristan, the sailor Mar was so smitten with. "I want to see my sister!" she shouted, fear making her voice tremble.

Tristan glared at the captain a moment before looking down into her eyes. His face was pinched in a scowl as a dark shadow seemed to cross over his face. "Come with me. I'll show you what they've done to her," Tristan said.

He turned abruptly away and went to the stern of the ship. His dark hair blew in the wind and his fists were clenched tightly together. Bethany could feel his angry, even beneath her shields. It would have burned along her skin, without a barrier between them. It didn't take long for them to reach where they had tied her sister. A sharp scream tore itself from her lips as she pushed past the sailor, running toward Mar, who was tied up against the flag pole. Her shirt had been ripped off; the only thing keeping her decent was the breast band she word. Her back was covered in angry red lines from a whip and blisters were starting to form from the hot sun beating down on her bare skin for hours. There was spit matted in her short, light brown hair from crude sailors passing by.

Bethany gently touched her sister's face, tears flowing freely down her face. Mar looked up at her and attempted a weak smile. "Don't cry, Bethany. I'll be right as rain as soon as they untie me," she whispered.

Aveline let out a low growl from behind him. "This- this is inhuman! I won't let it stand!" Aveline walked over to Hawke and used her dagger to cut the ropes that bound her. "Can you stand, Hawke, or should I carry you?" she asked.

Mar's lip turned up in a slight smile as she held onto her sister's arm. "I can stand, Aveline. Thanks."

"Whaddo' you lot think yer doin? This is my ship! That wench earned her punishment, she did!" Captain Roland said, stomping over and standing toe-to-toe with Aveline.

Aveline's eyes blazed with fury. "Listen here, little man. No one treats my friends like this. If you want her to pay for her supposed crimes then put her to work. A few days of hard labor is a fitting punishment for sneaking about your damned ship."

Roland's pupils widened and he shoved Aveline, hard. "Ye don't tell me what ter do on my ship, lassie!"

Tristan quickly stepped between the two before a fight started. He glared at Captain Roland. "You might want to do as this girl suggests, Captain," he said, voice low, as he fingered a small charm that hung around his neck. The captain blinked a few times, staring at the amulet, before turning away.

"Fine. You deal with them, then," he replied as he walked away.

Tristan glanced back at Bethany. "Get yourselves back down in the hold. I'll come for you in a few hours after she's been healed," he said and followed after the captain.

 

~*~*~

 

Bright pink light encased Maurevar as Bethany chanted a healing spell in a hidden corner of the hold. The ragged cuts on Hawke's back knitted themselves back together, the heat blisters melted away, and the ugly purple bruises disappeared as the blood capillaries reformed. Aveline soaked a cloth in some water from the flask and tried to rub some of the spit out of the mage's short hair. She struggled to hold back the anger she felt at her friend's mistreatment. They hadn't known each other long but the Hawke sisters had saved her life. Hawke had insisted they take her with them when they escaped Lothering. The witch, Flemeth, had told her no- but Hawke was determined. Flemeth had said something about fate only needing the two sisters but Hawke wouldn't leave Aveline behind so she was forced to agree. And for that, Aveline was grateful. They had even been kind to her when Wesley had died. He had used the last of his strength trying to save Leandra Hawke but, in the end, they had both died at the hands of the ogre. And it was Aveline's fault.

Aveline shoved the guilt deeper. She knew she should have saved him but there was no changing the past. What was done was done and she had to move on. There was no use wallowing in self-pity and grief. Aveline watched as Bethany held her sister's hand, fear and worry in her eyes. She had never met anyone like Bethany Hawke. The girl had a gentle soul and an open heart. Wesley would have said she wore her emotions on her sleeve. She seemed the sort to be easily spooked but held her ground when the moment called for it. She hadn't even cried more than a few tears when her mother died. Aveline found herself feeling very protective of the girl. Even more so than she did with her late husband.

Bethany finished her healing spell and looked up into Aveline's gaze. Aveline found herself transfixed by Bethany's rounded, wholesome face. Her deep brown eyes were deep set and filled with worry. For some reason, the warrior wanted to hold her and chase the worry away. She frowned, angry at herself for the momentary thought.

Bethany looked back down at Mar and brushed some of the hair out her face. "This is why you should be more careful. Mar. I don't want to lose you, too," she whispered.

Mar grinned and batted Bethany's hand away. "I'm fine, Beth. You healed me up , right?"

Aveline scowled and leaned against the wall. "What if we hadn't found you? Your sister is right, you need to be more careful, Hawke."

Hawke rolled her eyes and shifted into a more comfortable position. "You sound like my brother. Relax, Tristan wouldn't have let me come to any serious harm." Her tone was light and carefree, as if it really didn't matter to her. 

"That is a foolish sentiment. You barely know the man," Aveline stated flatly. She didn't understand how Hawke could be so cavalier when she had just been tortured. If it had been her, she would be seething with anger right now.

Hawke looked up at Aveline and quirked an eyebrow up. "I barely know you as well, but I trust you. Besides, Roland had his pound of flesh. I doubt we'll have to worry about him again."

"You should listen to your friends, Maurevar. The Captain is not so easily satisfied," a voice said from the shadows.

Mar smiled, the accent telling them all who the speaker was. "What more could he possibly want, Tristan?"

Tristan stepped closer to the small group. "Your sister, for one thing."

Hawke's eyes filled with obvious fear at his words. "Bethany? What does he want with her?"

Tristan glanced at the mage in question before answering. "She's a pretty little thing, what do you think he wants with her?"

Aveline growled low and stepped in front of Bethany. "Let him try to take Bethany. So long as I draw breath, he won't lay a finger on her."

Tristan smirked and shook his head. "You alone would take on an entire ship of sailors? That is a foolish sentiment, indeed. You needn't worry though. I have convinced the Captain that such an endeavor would only bring about chaos on his ship."

Aveline loosened her aggressive stance. "Then what does he want, instead?" She would allow no harm to come to anymore people she knew.

"Smart question, amiga. The three of you are to report topside tomorrow. You will take on the harder tasks and work off the debt. If you fail in anyway, he'll take Bethany as his own. When he's finished with her, she'll be tossed overboard." Tristan looked pointedly at Maurevar as he spoke.

Mar chewed the inside of her cheek before speaking. "Well, I'll not let them take my sister. So, I suppose working for this disgusting prig of a man is our only option left," she replied with a sigh.

She glanced over at Bethany, her brow furrowed low. Aveline hoped this was enough to make Hawke exercise more caution.


	3. Chapter 3

The salt wind blew the short blondish-brown strands of Mar's hair as she sat on the top deck of  _The Clara_ . She took a deep breath and sighed. She looked around the ship and sent a silent prayer to the Maker that she would be able to keep Bethany safe. For the past five hours they had done what the Captain called oakum-picking: teasing apart old and broken ropes so the sailors could use the individual pieces as some sort of cheap sealant to keep water from seeping into the ship. It was hard work and their hands were chapped and bleeding.

Mar heard her sister start to whimper lightly from the pain. She watched as Aveline gently took the rope Bethany had been working on, shifting her body to block Bethany from sight. Mar wasn't sure how to feel about this- she was supposed to be the one protecting her sister, not anyone else. Yet, Aveline was a good sort and she couldn't help but like the older woman, even if she was a stickler for the rules. Mar sighed and continued the work, slowly peeling each minuscule strand of rope apart.

After another hour of oakum-picking, Mar felt like she would soon die of thirst. They had been given no water and no food the entire time and the heat was beginning to get to her. A shadow blocked the sun's rays for a moment and Mar looked up to see Tristan standing there, a small pail of water in hand. He bent low and smiled, handing them the bucket and a large ladle to scoop out the water. Mar smiled gratefully and passed the ladle first to Bethany and then to Aveline before taking a drink, herself.

Tristan glanced briefly at Bethany, his brow creased. "Do you think she'll hold up?" he asked Maurevar.

Mar frowned and took in her sister's sunburnt skin and chapped lips. She noticed the bleeding fingers and sighed. "I'm not sure," she answered honestly.

Tristan reached his hand up and touched his pendant briefly before nodding, an unhappy expression on his face. "I'll see what I can do. Stay safe, Maurevar," he said before standing and walking away.

Bethany bowed her head. "I'm making things more difficult, aren't I? I'm sorry," she whispered.

Aveline laid a hand on her shoulder, causing Bethany to look up into the woman's green eyes. "You've caused no trouble, Bethany," she said and smiled. Her smile was a crooked smile, and Bethany blushed lightly beneath the heat of the sun.

Mar cleared her throat, causing both of them to look at her. "Yes, well, have some more water, Beth," she mumbled. She awkwardly handed the ladle to her sister and made sure she took several slow drinks of water before finally taking a few more drinks herself. They continued picking apart the ropes for a time but it wasn't long before Tristan rejoined them, an peeved expression on his face.

Mar lifted one eyebrow as she looked up at the man. "Bad news, I take it? Alright, spit it out all ready, we can take it," she quipped.

Tristan shook his head lightly, lips twitching slightly. "Well, I've good news and bad news: which do you want first, amiga?"

Mar pressed a finger to her lips as she pretended to think about it. "Bad news, that way you'll leave us with something happy," she replied with a mischievous grin.

He nodded, a grim expression on his face. "You've been given a new task. Until sun down you are to take those cannonballs," he replied, pointing to where a large stack of cannonballs sat. "Move them three feet to the left, and back again. Then repeat," he said with a sigh.

Aveline scowled. "Flames! How is Bethany supposed to perform a task like that?" she growled.

Tristan smiled then. "That is the good news, valiente. Bethany has been relieved of duty, as it were. She will stay near you but her task is to make sure the two of you do not drop dead from heat exhaustion."

Bethany tilted her head and looked at him curiously. "And how will I do that?" she asked.

Tristan turned to her. "By being placed in charge of the water pail, corderito."

Mar beamed up at Tristan and, for a moment, he was dazzled by her smile of pure happiness. "Thank you, Tristan. I don't know how you did it, but thank you!" she said.

Tristan grinned back. "You are most welcome, amiga."

As he walked away Aveline looked at him, her brows crinkled in puzzlement. "How did he manage that, Hawke? A sailor shouldn't be able to exercise such control over his captain," she mused.

Maurevar shrugged and stood, stretching her limbs. "Does it matter? He's helping us," she replied and winked at Bethany.

Bethany shook her head and frowned up at her sister. "For now, Sister, but still... he worries me."

Aveline stood up and reached a hand down towards Bethany. "Well, whatever he's up to- Hawke and I will protect you," she replied.

Bethany blushed and put her hand in Aveline's. The older woman's hand was callused and warm and Bethany felt a line of heat run down her spine at the contact. She felt a strange stirring in her heart and wondered what it meant. Could she be falling for the strong and brave warrior? She had never been in love before, in all her eighteen years. Her mother had described it as a giddy whirlwind of emotions that made you want to smile all the time. Well, that was certainly how Bethany felt right now. Like she wanted to smile and not stop, even though they were going through such difficult times. She wanted to be held in Aveline's strong arms and blushed at the thought.

Aveline grunted as she lifted a large cannonball and moved it three feet over. She was angry they had been put to such a pointless task but if it meant Bethany was out of harm's way, she'd do it willingly. She glanced over and saw Bethany standing nearby, a worried expression on her soft, rounded face. She sent a little smile to the girl and was relieved to see her smile back. She sighed and continued lifting the cannonballs back and forth, trying to ignore the snickering of passing sailors. She also tried to ignore the thought that was nagging at her, the thought that Tristan was much more than he said he was. Was he one of the Antivan Crows on a mission? If he was, why was he paying them so much attention? If they were a target, he shouldn't be helping them. It didn't make any sense, so Aveline tried not to think about it and focused solely on the task at hand, mindless as it was.

It wasn't long before the sun set, casting a beautiful glow over the sea. Hawke had gone off in search of Tristan and some food and Aveline stood watch over Bethany. A few stars started to glow against the darkening sky.

Bethany smiled gently as she looked out at the sky. "The stars are so beautiful, aren't they, Aveline?"

Aveline grunted. "I guess so," she replied.

Bethany leaned against the edge of the ship. "There was a Chantry sister, back in Lothering. She told us the tale of Alindra and her love. They were separated first by class and then by death, and so the gods raised them both up to become a cluster of stars," Bethany murmured, a soft smile playing on the edges of her lips. "I know it's just a silly tale but it makes the stars seem even more beautiful, so bright and yellow against the darkness of the night sky."

Aveline watched as Bethany stared up at the stars for a while and couldn't help but think that the girl before her was shining just a bit brighter than all the stars in the sky.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The sun beat down against Mar's neck, burning and blistering the sensitive skin. The weight of the large cannonballs was starting to wear on her back and a constant, severe pain had settled itself in her spine. Even with the healing spells Beth would send her way when no one was looking, Mar felt as if she couldn't take much more of this brutal assault. She glanced over at Aveline out of the corner of her eye. She was not too surprised to see Aveline easily moving the round balls of metal back and forth.

Mar stumbled and Bethany rushed forward with the water pail. Mar could feel the anger in her at this pointless task growing steadily as she took a few sips from the water her sister offered. Grunting low, she reached back down and picked up her cannonball again to resume her tiring work. She felt something pop in her shoulder and cried out in pain, dropping the cannonball on her foot. She yelped, again, and fell to the ground, clutching her shoulder and foot in pain.

Bethany rushed to her sister's side, concern plastered on her face. "Mar! Are you okay?" she asked. She had this bad feeling about today. Her time in the Fade last night had been particularly disturbing, with the demons whispering ominous things in her ears. Whispers of promises to protect her from the coming danger. Of course, she refused.

Mar groaned in pain, shaking her head. She had dislocated her shoulder from lifting objects that were too heavy for her. Tristan noticed what was going on and rushed over to the group, brushing past Aveline who was standing awkwardly nearby. He knelt down next to Mar, his dark blue eyes sending shivers down her spine. He used his nimble fingers to feel her shoulder, noticing the same thing she had. He frowned and pulled out a piece of leather from his pouch.

"Here, bite down on this. I'm going to pop your shoulder into place, yes?" he said, handing her the leather.

Mar nodded and placed it gently between her teeth, bracing herself for the pain that was to come. She squeezed her eyes tight as Tristan forcefully popped her shoulder into its proper location. She bit down, hard, and tried not to scream as pain shot its way through her shoulder and arm. Mar's vision swam and tears rolled down her cheeks. Bethany reached out and grabbed her sister's other hand, concern plastered on her round face.

In the distance, thunder clapped and lightning flashed against what was once a clear blue sky. Mar looked up and noticed the sky was darkening to a terrifying shade of gray-black. Bethany clutched her hand tighter, fear causing her to tremble.

Tristan's eyes widened as he noticed the turn the weather was taking. He heard the Captain call for all hands on deck, a storm was fast a-coming. He looked down at the three women before him as he began mentally preparing himself for what he knew was to come. Growing up in Antiva, by the docks, had taught him much about the sea and its fast changing weather. "Valiente, I need you and Maurevar to secure the rigging up top. Corderita, you can assist them as well, yes?" he asked, looking at Bethany.

Bethany bit her lip and nodded, determined to be of help. "Good, yes. Be careful, a storm at sea can quickly turn to disaster," he replied and went off to help the Captain.

~*~*~

The wind whipped Bethany's hair viciously, so she pulled it back into a quick ponytail. Carefully she climbed up the masts, attempting to reach the rigging she was supposed to secure. The wind was fierce and smacked harshly against her skin. Lightning danced wickedly across a darkened sky and thunder roared, a cruel sound that reminded Bethany of the demons who laughed in her dreams. She reached out to grab the rope that was blowing in the wind and lost her balance, tumbling down into the sea below. The waves crashed violently, filling up her mouth and nose and cutting off her air. She was tossed about the sea as if she was nothing more than its plaything and soon felt herself begin to drown. She kicked and struggled but it was in vain. She had never learned to swim.

**~*~*~**

Mar was up top, tying up the rigging, oblivious to her sister's struggles. She growled in frustration; each time she got a hold of the blasted rope the wind would tear it out of her hands again. Finally, using a bit of her mana to weigh it down, she managed to secure it only to have a bolt a lightning split the mast she was holding onto down the center. She screamed as the lightning coursed its way through her body and the wind carried off the sound. She landed on the deck of the ship, which was no small amount of luck, she was sure, with a heavy thud. Her back felt like it had been split open and her spine felt like it must be broken. She tried to remember a healing spell her father had taught her but healing had never been her specialty. She glanced around, unable to move herself, as the boat tossed and turned, hoping she would see Beth.

Instead, she saw Tristan's worried face and tried to smile. "I must look like the void itself," she rasped. "Where is my sister?"

Tristan shook his head regretfully and Mar felt herself begin to panic. She had to get up, she had to find Bethany. She had to save her sister; that was the only thing that mattered. She struggled to sit up but her body protested. She swore under her breath and Tristan place a hand on her shoulder. "Calm yourself, amiga. Here, drink this. It will heal you, some," he replied. For once, Mar was in too much pain for his thick accent to send the customary shivers down her spine. Or maybe it was the fact her spine had surely been broken.

Slowly, the ice-cold liquid passed her lips and down her throat and she felt a strange sensation cover her entire body. Cautiously, she rose herself up with the help of Tristan's hand on her back. She was pleasantly surprised to be able to move, though her body was still stiff and rather sore.

**~*~*~**

Aveline had noticed Bethany fall into the ocean below and had quickly dived in after her. It was pure instinct on her part, there really wasn't much she could do on her own. The moment her body hit the water, she prayed it was not too late. She had already failed Wesley, she could not fail Bethany, too. She screamed out Bethany's name but the wind and thunder were so loud she could scarcely hear her own voice. The waves tossed her about and it was a struggle to remain afloat. She caught a glimpse of chocolate brown hair and a tiny hand raised up, grasping desperately at the air. Aveline furrowed her brow and swam towards that hand, determined to reach her in time. She reached out one arm and grabbed hold of Bethany's hand, pulling her head above water.

Bethany gasped for breath, each intake of air burning her lungs. She wrapped her arms around Aveline's neck as the water threw them about like rag-dolls. Suddenly, a rope came down and Aveline tied it around Bethany's waist. She then gripped hold of the rope herself and held on tight as they were pulled up. Aveline tucked her body close to Bethany's, taking the brunt of the force when the wind would knock them into the side of the ship.

A warm and callused hand grabbed Aveline's and hauled her the last few inches over the side of the ship. Mar grabbed her sister in a tight hug, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her clothes were soaked and singed, and she looked as if she had been lit on fire. Burn scars trailed down her face and arms and Bethany clucked her tongue. "Let me heal you, sister," she said and sang a quick healing spell.

Tristan glanced around at the panicked sailors as the ship rocked back and forth. Quickly assessing the situation, he knew the ship itself was doomed. Maldicion! It was already beginning to split apart where the lightning had struck. It was only a matter of time, now. He began to sing the Chant of Light under his breath, weaving the words together with an easy familiarity. He'd known the Chant since he was small and he sang it now, when things seemed so bleak. Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky and he saw the look of realization on Maurevar's face. She could tell as well as he that their chances of survival were few.


	5. Chapter 5

Aveline awoke bruised and sore on a beach, mouth filled with sand and clothing damp. The sun was shining brightly, as if the storm had never happened. She pushed herself to her feet and spat out the sand as best she could. She could see the beach was littered with debris. Frowning slightly, she pushed up her sleeves and went to work.

She didn't take the time to check on the others, if they were dead there was nothing she could do. What they would need is supplies and the beach was covered with potential. She needed to gather them before the sea took what little they could get. She walked, feet bare, along the shore. The saltwater lapped at her ankles, cold and bitter against her bare skin. She bent low, grabbing what she could. Which wasn't much. A few tattered pieces of cloth and some badly damaged wood. Flames. Scowling, she continued her search.

Finally, she found a box that hadn't been completely busted up. She pried open the crate, the splinters pricking her fingers. Inside was some some spoiled, soggy food. Aveline pushed her brows together and searched the crate. She hoped to find something, anything, they could eat. At the bottom was some dried meat that had come through unscathed. She allowed herself a small smile and carried the meat over to the tattered piece of sailing she had found.

To her left, she heard a heavy groan and looked over to see Tristan sitting up. Slowly, he got to his feet. He looked around and his heart fell as he realized that none of the other passengers had survived. He felt nothing for the capitán, but that ship had been filled to bursting with Ferelden refugees and sailors. He could still recall the faces of the niños who had been aboard, all of them wide-eyed and afraid, when he would serve them their daily rations.

"Draw your last breath, my friends, cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, and be forgiven," he whispered softly, hand over his heart. He prayed that they would find peace beyond the Veil, a peace they had not found in life.

Sighing heavily, he cast his eyes around for Maurevar Hawke and her sister. "I've never heard of a devout sailor before," he heard Aveline say nearby. He looked over and saw her glaring at him. He raised one brow and smiled.

"Then perhaps you did not know many sailors, valiente," he replied.

Aveline frowned harder, if that was possible. "I will not be fooled by your charm. I am not as easily fooled as Hawke," she replied.

Tristan never let his easy-going smile falter. He gave a small shake of his head and chuckled. "Ah, valiente, you will fall to my good looks soon enough," he replied and winked. "Come though, we must make sure our compatriotas are well, no?"

Aveline sighed and nodded her head. The man wasn't likely to tell her anything unless she beat it out of him and there would be plenty of time for that, later. For now, she searched the beach and quickly found Bethany nearby. She knelt down and pressed her fingers to the girl's throat, feeling for a pulse. She let herself breathe a sigh of relief: she had been more worried about the girl then she cared to admit. She sat down and watched over her. Her breathing was slow and even but her brow was scrunched up, as if she dreamt of horrible things.

Sand coated her lips and Aveline reached over and brushed it off. The moment her fingers touched Bethany's skin, she jerked her hand back like it was on fire. She didn't understand the strange feelings she was having. Instead of thinking about it, she pushed it to the back of her mind and ignored it.

Instead, she looked away and watched Tristan as he checked on Hawke. That was easy. Simple. She could handle that.

Tristan stood over Maurevar, waiting patiently for her to awaken. He watched as her chest rose and fell, her breathing steady. He idly touched his pendant, drawing comfort from its familiarity. He smiled when he saw Maurevar's eyes flutter open.

Hawke slowly sat up, her body protesting against the effort. Her mana felt drained, like it had been completely used up. She closed her eyes and tried to call up a wisp, which was simple magic for her. Her magical energy flexed outwards before sputtering out. She opened her eyes and scowled. She couldn't seem to remember what she had done to use up so much magical energy. She looked around, her eyes taking in everything around her.

She was on a sandy beach covered by debris. The sand was soft beneath her hands and almost seemed to glitter in the sunlight. Farther inland there was a dense forest, tall pine trees and gnarled oaks that reached up to touch the sky. There were also a few trees she didn't recognize, tall thin ones with strange, round things hanging from the tops. She felt confused and disorientated; the last thing she remembered was boarding the ship that was to take them to Kirkwall.

A tall man with dark hair and darker eyes was standing over her. His face seemed familiar but she couldn't place it. "Maurevar?" he asked, voice thick with an Antivan accent.

Mar looked at him, unsure of who he was but certain she knew him. "Yes?" she asked, looking around worriedly for her sister. Spotting Bethany nearby, she felt her heartbeat quicken. Her sweet, delicate sister lay near the water's edge, completely prone. The Ferelden solider sat next to her but Hawke had to see for herself that Beth was okay.

She tried to scramble to her feet but couldn't get her legs to work properly. She let out a desperate cry, struggling to reach her sister. The man who had spoken her name reached down and picked her up, cradling her in his strong arms. "You wish to see your sister, no? I will take you to her, amiga," he murmured. She felt her panic grow, confused and scared by everything around her.

She looked up into his face, a strange feeling in her stomach causing her heart to race. Her skin tingled where he was touching her. "Why can't I walk? Where are we?" she asked. She wanted to ask why her magic was gone but wasn't sure if he knew she was a mage.

He refused to meet her eyes as he continued to walk steadily to where her sister lay. "You do not remember, amiga? You will, in time, do not worry. For now, try to remain calm," he whispered.

Amiga? Her brain focused on the foreign word, trying to make sense of it. She felt so confused about everything: her surroundings, her magic, her sister. So she focused on the tiny details and tried to ignore the rest, not comforted at all by the man's assurances. She felt raw and vulnerable and she didn't like it.

They reached her sister and he placed her on the ground next to her. She quickly placed her fingers on Bethany's throat and felt her pulse, strong and steady, fluttering beneath the skin. She let out a strangled sob and her relief was palpable.

Bethany's eyes flickered open and she moaned softly. "Mar?" she mumbled, sitting up.

Hawke leaned forward and pulled her into a tight hug. Bethany hugged her sister in return and gently stroked Mar's hair. Mar was usually the strong one in these situations but Bethany understood. Bethany could feel her sister's mana had been sapped which often left a mage weak, both emotionally and physically. She held her sister close and allowed her a moment to relax.

Eventually she disentangled herself from Mar's grasp. Hawke looked into her sister's eyes, searching for some sign that she knew what happened to them. Bethany knew her sister well and could see she was confused.

Bethany touched her sister's face gently. "The ship crashed. We thought we'd all die. You used your magic to form a barrier spell, to help protect us. I didn't realize you had used up so much mana. I'm sorry, Sister," she whispered, hoping her explantion would help calm her sister.

Hawke glanced up at Tristan before looking back at her sister. "Who is he? I feel like I should know him," she said, her voice softer than Bethany was used to.

Tristan smiled and knelt down next to them. "My ego is flattered you would feel such familiarity, amiga. I am Tristan, a simple sailor aboard  _The Clara_ ," he answered. "You are concerned I know your family secret, no? Rest assured, your secret has always been safe with me, amiga."

Bethany looked at Tristan and then to Aveline. "Why can't my sister rememeber who he is?" she asked Aveline, who shrugged in response.

"She is drained from her spellwork. The lightning striking her body did not help, not to mention she probably hit her head at some point. She has mild amnesia but do not worry, it will likely return in time," Tristan answered, and smiled at Hawke.

His smile sent shivers down her spine. She smiled back, feeling like she should trust Tristan. "Sis, can you heal me? I'm not able to walk on my own and, if I had my druthers, I'd rather not be carried all day," she said, looking towards Bethany.

Tristan gasped and place a hand on his heart. "You wound me, amiga! And here I thought you liked being held in my arms," he quipped, causing Mar to smile.

Bethany frowned. Her distrust of Tristan only grew each time she was near him. She grabbed her sister's hands, forcing her attention away from the mysterious self-proclaimed sailor, and began to sing softly. Her spell filled the air even though her voice was barely above a whisper. Hawke felt her legs begin to heal, the muscles regaining sensation as her sister wove her magic around them and through them.

Carefully, she got to her feet. She stumbled and Tristan caught her, his arms firm and strong. She shivered: the physical contact too much for her to handle in her weakened state. He seemed to sense this and handed her over to Bethany who held onto her older sister until she had regained her senses.

Maurevar took a few slow, deep breaths. She kept her eyes closed and silently recited a meditation her father had taught her. Slowly, she felt herself calm and a bit of her mana return.

"Hawke? We need to find shelter. Are you able?" she heard a voice ask. It sounded like the Ferelden solider they had saved in Lothering.

Mar opened her eyes and cautiously turned around. "Aveline, right? I'm fine," she answered.

Bethany looked at her sister with worried eyes. "Mar, if you can-"

"I said I'm fine!" Hawke snapped, interrupting Bethany. She sighed and pressed her fingers to her temple. "Sorry, Beth," she mumbled.

She took a few hesitant steps forward, and with each step a little bit more of her energy returned. She turned her head and smiled at Bethany who smiled back.

Aveline grunted and got to her feet. She walked past Hawke and over to where she had piled the wood and broken sail. "It's not much, but this is about the only useable things I could find. My sword, my Wesley's shield, all of that was lost when the ship went down," Aveline stated. She felt guilty over losing her husband's shield. It had been all she had left of him and now it lay at the bottom of the ocean. But there was nothing to be done about it so she shoved the guilt aside and focused on the matter at hand.

Tristan ran his hand through his hair and looked around the island. "We will need fresh water, no? I know this isla. No sailors come here because there is no freshwater to be found," he began.

Bethany sighed. "Then what are we to do? We can't very well drink saltwater, can we?"

Tristan smiled and winked at the girl. "Ah, corderita, but we can. I know a way, if we can get a fire started," he responded.

Bethany grinned happily. "Well, a fire is something I can help you with!"

Tristan shook his head. "No, corderita. You must save your mana. We do not have a supply of lyrium here on this isla, save your magic for healing. We will get a fire started the hard way."

Bethany sighed and nodded her head. She understood the wisdom in that but she had wanted to be useful.

Aveline noticed the girl's saddened expression. "Bethany, I need your help with this sail. Can you mend it?" she asked.

The young girl's expression immediately brightened. "Let me see," she mumbled, feeling along the seams of her dress robes. She had a secret pocket where a sewing needle and some thread were kept. Ah! There it was. "Yes, I still have my sewing needle! I can fix it!" she replied.

She walked over to Aveline and began sewing up the holes in the sail. She wasn't sure what Aveline had in mind for it but she was sure the warrior knew what to do. Aveline was a survivor, Bethany could tell, and she felt as if they all would be safe- so long as Aveline was with them. She hummed a little tune under her breath, a song her mother had often sung to them when they were small.

Tristan turned to Maurevar and raised an eyebrow in question. "Are you well enough to help me start a fire?"

Mar wrinkled her nose. "How do you start a fire without magic?" she asked.

Tristan laughed, and the sound was like music to Mar's ears. "Not very easily, amiga. Come, I will show you."

Hawke followed behind him and tried not to stare at his arse as he walked. Who was this man? She wondered. Is he a friend, like he says? It was increasingly frustrating that she couldn't remember anything about their time on  _The Clara_. Cor-corderito? What was that he had called her sister? Was that the proof she was looking for, that easy familiarity that Tristan seemed to have with her two companions? That must be it. That proved, certainly, that Tristan had been their friend aboard that ship.

Tristan walked up to where the forest met the beach and looked around. "We need dry twigs and brush. Tree bark, pocket lint, moss, anything. Grab what you can. It rained, so much is wet but these tree branches are thick. The canopy they form should have protected something," he explained.

Carefully, Hawke searched the tree trunks for bits of dried moss and bark. Much of the wood was damp but the further inland they went, the drier it became. It took them a whole hour to find enough dry bits to make a decent fire and even then, it wouldn't be enough to keep the fire going for long. Mar sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow. The sun was beating down hot on the beach and, despite the shade offered by the trees, the air was hot and muggy in the forest as well. For three hours they searched the wooded area until they had enough tinder.

Meanwhile, Bethany had finished her sewing project. She crinkled her nose in dissatisfaction. It was not her prettiest needle work but it would have to suffice. In places, the seams she had made puckered slightly from lack of fabric but it would hold against a strong wind. She watched as Aveline began constructing something from the wood and broken crates, curious. On occasion, the older woman would ask her to hold something in place while she used a small dagger she had managed to find on the beach to whittle a curve into the wood. Then, she would put the two pieces of wood together, and they fit snuggly into the divet Aveline had carved. She used bits of the rope she had found to tie the pieces of wood together. It was slow and tiring work, but progress was being made, and that made Aveline happy.

"Now, amiga, we must make a nest. Like this," Tristan explained, showing Mar how to form a tiny nest in the center of the fire pit they had created. He bundled up some dry leaves and moss in the middle and then surrounded it with the bark and twigs.

He furrowed his brow as he looked around and smiled when he spotted some of the rope Aveline had been using to construct what Tristan assumed was a lean to. "Corderito? Would you hand me a small bit of that fine rope you have? Just enough to make a small bow, por favor?"

Once the rope was in his hands he made a miniature bow using a small twig. "Hold this, amiga," he murmured.

Hawke nodded and held the long twig in place, in the center of the nest they had made. She held it firmly so it would not move as Tristan rubbed the rope against it. The friction would, hopefully, cause a spark that would light the nest on fire but it was slow and tedious work. Oh, how Hawke wished she could light the fire with magic but Tristan was right. They did not have an infinite supply of lyrium, or any at all for that matter, and her mana had not fully returned anyway. It would be a waste to use it now only to need it more later and not have it.

"Excelente!" Tristan exclaimed as the spark finally caught the tinder below. Now, they had fire and a temporary shelter. All they needed was some food and water.

He glanced over at Aveline who had just finished her lean-to. "Valiente?"

Aveline glared over at the man, tired of him mispronouncing her last name. "It's pronounced 'Vallen'. What do you want?"

Tristan chuckled. "No, amiga, valiente is an Antivan word. It means 'valiant' and I thought it fitting for one such as yourself. Do I offend?"

Aveline struggled not to glare further. The daft man meant it as a complement, she supposed. "No, you don't offend," she replied.

Tristan grinned. "It would seem you are succumbing to my charms after all, valiente," he replied and winked which caused Aveline to glare again. "We need food. Take corderito with you and see what you can find, por favor," he continued.

Aveline shook her head. "I already found food. Some meat, unspoiled, from one of the crates."

"Truly? Excelente. We shall feast like kings tonight!" he joked. "Still, I will need an empty coconut shell, if you will. Perhaps a few not so empty ones would help, as well."

Aveline just sighed and nodded to Bethany. What the man hoped to do with coconut shells was beyond her but there wasn't much choice left. She told Bethany to look on the ground for broken ones. There were not many coconut trees around: the oaks and pines took up most the space. She rubbed her hands together and leapt upwards, wrapping her thighs around the trunk of one of the coconut trees. Slowly, she climbed, using her thighs to push her body upwards. Reaching the top she grabbed a coconut and called out for Bethany.

"Catch these as I throw them down," she told the girl. Bethany nodded. Aveline tossed one down and watched as Bethany missed. The coconut shattered on the ground and Aveline groaned.

"Flames," she growled out, frustrated. She took careful aim and tried to drop the next one more gently and cheered when Bethany caught it. Soon, they had three or four good coconuts and one half broken shell.

They quickly rejoined the others and were greeted by Tristan's self-satisfied grin. "Good. Let me see that dagger you found, valiente."

Aveline handed over the dagger and watched as Tristan cut a small hole in each of the whole coconuts. He showed them how to drink from them. There wasn't much water in them but enough to ease the burning ache that had developed in their throats. Then he cut them open the rest of the way and told them to eat the meat from it. As they all chewed the strange flavored food they watched as Tristan filled up the broken shell with water from the oven and brought it over to the fire. He had whittled a small shoot from some strange plant Aveline didn't recognize. As the heat boiled the water in the coconut, the water dripped down the shoot and into a small contained he had rigged. She watched, curiously as he dipped a finger in it and tasted it.

"It is safe to drink. Here, have some," he said, handing the container first to Hawke. She shook her head and passed it to her sister, more concerned for Bethany than for herself. Bethany smiled at her sister and shook her head. She took a drink and gasped in surprise.

"There's no salt! It tastes good!" she exclaimed.

Tristan just nodded and went back to work. He boiled enough water for them each to have a small drink. The air was steadily growing colder as the sun began to set.

Aveline looked out at the sea, and was surprised to see how beautiful it looked considering how violent it had been yesterday. "We should get some rest. Tomorrow will not be an easy day," Aveline said.

Maurevar nodded in agreement. The four of them crowded inside Aveline's lean-to. The sail had been placed on the ground, a small layer between them and the bugs. They were pressed so tightly together that the body heat kept them warm. Tristan shifted awkwardly next to Maerevar, unsure where to put his hands. His body was tucked in close to hers and the feel of the young mage's body against him pleased him more than he wanted to admit. Hawke had her arms wrapped protectively around Bethany, who was snuggled in close against Aveline. Aveline also shifted awkwardly for a moment before sighing and resting her arm around Bethany. Having no other option, Tristan followed suit and put his arm tentatively on Mar's side. He felt her tense for a moment before relaxing and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Bethany's eyes were closed but she was not sleeping, not yet. She was afraid, as usual, about the demons that always came to her in whispered ancient words Bethany didn't understand. "Somniari, come to us," they would beg. "Potestas. Sanguis. Necare ," they said, taunting her and tempting her. She resisted but every night they came and tried again and Bethany knew that this night would be no different.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun shone brightly in Hawke's eyes. She tried to sit up but felt Tristan's arm wrapped tightly around her midriff. She froze, nervous tension running through her body. Even though she knew she knew him, it felt to her as if she didn't. This man, handsome as he was, was a stranger to her. She wanted to trust him. His dark cobalt blue eyes were memorizing and she could easily see herself getting lost in them.

She felt him shift next to her and stiffened. "Amiga? Are you awake?" he asked, his accent sending shivers down her spine, despite herself.

"Yes, I'm awake," she whispered.

Tristan rolled over, out from under the lean-to and into the open air. He casually walked over to the ocean and splashed some cool water on his face. He heard Maurevar walking up behind him. He turned and flashed her a smile and she smiled hesitantly in return. He could sense that her mana had not returned. He was beginning to worry: it should not take so long for any mage to regain their mana, even after what she had been through.

"How are you feeling, amiga? Are you well?" he asked, genuinely concerned despite himself.

She nodded her head and stared at his necklace. The silver metal sparkled in the sunlight. She tilted her head, trying to remember if she had ever seen such a strange symbol before. "Your necklace, what does it mean?" she asked.

Tristan cleared his throat and hastily put the pendant under his shirt. "It is nothing, amiga. Simply something that keeps me close to the Maker," he lied.

Hawke smiled, curious about this man. "Did I know you were the religious sort?"

Tristan refused to meet her eyes, uncomfortable with this line of questioning. He knew it was only a matter of time before she found out his true purpose, but he would rather she found out later, much later, if he could help it.

He glanced into the tree line and grinned. "Amiga, would you like to join me as I search for shelter? We will need a cueva if we are to survive here long, no?"

Maurevar looked back at where her sister was sleeping. "My sister..." she began.

Tristan tsked and cut her off. "Your sister will be multa, amiga. Aveline will watch over her, rest assured," he murmured.

Mar nodded in agreement and followed behind him, enjoying the view as they went. The forest was muggier than the beach and it wasn't long before Mar's hair was damp and clinging to her forehead. Flies and other insects swarmed in front of her face and she batted at them idly. Despite the shade the trees afforded, it was still hot and sweat was pouring down their faces.

Suddenly, Tristan stopped and pointed straight ahead. "Amiga, look! Magnífico! It's a cueva!"

Maurevar's eyes followed where he was pointing, confused by all the Antivan words. She saw a small cave and smiled, finally understanding.

She walked over to the cave and looked in, staring down it's dark depths with a wary eye. She glanced over at Tristan, who was thumbing his pendant again. She stared a moment, taking in the shape. It was a sun with an eye in the center of it. She racked her brain trying to remember if she knew of any Chantry symbols involving an eye. Nothing came to mind but then, Hawke had never been very religious.

Tristan stared in the direction of the beach, brow crinkled in concern. "I do not know if this is a wise spot for us to stay, amiga. So far from the beach we will not be able to see if help arrives."

Hawke's smile dropped. "So, what are we going to do?" she asked, running her fingers through her short hair.

Tristan turned towards her and winked. "We will build something, of course. With all of these trees, I am sure we can manage something, yes?"

**~*~*~**

Bethany looked around, confused. She had been dreaming a moment ago. She had been in the Fade, trying her best to ignore the demons. They had surrounded her, as usual, and shouted deals her way. She remembered the naked, lewd form of the Pride demon. The burning heat of the Rage demon. She was a sensitive, so she could feel the concentrated emotions of the demons. Jealousy, anger, lust. She was also a Somniari; so the demons coveted her power even more than they did from most mages.

But she wasn't in that part of the Fade anymore. She wasn't sure where she was. She seemed to be floating, somehow. Just above two people talking.

She concentrated on the people below her and her vision seemed to hone in on them. As their faces were brought into clearer view, Bethany felt a shock run through her body. She was looking down on her brother, Carver. His long brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and he was smiling at something the girl said.

She had white-blonde curly hair and she carried a staff on her back. She was obviously a mage but Bethany couldn't believe it. Her brother, her moody grump of a brother, was getting along with a mage. Maybe he had just needed to be away from them before he could be happy. "Oh Carver, I miss you, brother," she whispered.

Carver furrowed his brow and looked around. "Did you hear something, Melina?" he asked, hand reaching back for his sword.

Melina nodded her head and looked around. "I think so, Ser Carver."

"Bethany? Bethany, wake up." Bethany heard a voice calling her name and slowly felt her body wake up. And as her body became more aware, her presence in the dreamworld lessened.

Bethany sat up and looked around groggily. "I'm awake. What's the matter, Aveline?" she asked.

Aveline grunted. "I can't find that blasted sister of yours. Again. Or Tristan."

She sighed and looked over at the warrior. Aveline's hair was unbound from her usual ponytail. The orangey-red strands were wild and frizzy, giving the woman an even fiercer look. Bits of sand and dirt clung to her clothes, hair, and skin."You have freckles on your cheeks," Bethany murmured absently. She blushed, not realizing she had spoken out loud.

"Uh. Yes. I do," Aveline replied awkwardly.

Still blushing, Bethany crawled out from under the lean-to. She looked around the beach and noticed it was empty, save for bits of debris. "Maker... blast it, Mar," she muttered, stumbling over the unfamiliar curse.

Aveline walked up behind her and raised an eyebrow at her. "We can't search for them all day. I caught some fish. We should eat," she said.

Bethany nodded her head in agreement. She was sure where ever Mar had taken off to this time, she was safe. Tristan had promised to watch over her, after all. She tried to ignore the voice in her head that shouted not to trust him.

Aveline took fish and carefully cut away the scales. She shoved a stick through it and placed it next to a small fire. She did the same with three more fish. Bethany's stomach growled with hunger as the scent of the fishing smoking drifted towards her nose.

She cleared her throat before sitting down on the opposite side of the fire. "It smells delicious, Aveline."

"Smells like fish," Aveline replied.

Bethany laughed. "But cooked fish smells so good!" she said with a smile.

Aveline snorted and shook her head. "If you like fish, it does."

"Ah, and you don't," Bethany replied. "Well, what do you like?"

Aveline furrowed her brow in thought for a moment. "Mushrooms," she answered simply. "And mutton."

Bethany tapped a finger on her lip. "Well, I can't find any lamb but I can search for mushrooms in the forest!"

Aveline glanced towards the forest. There could be wolves or bears or any manner of beast waiting in there. It wasn't safe for Bethany to go alone and she needed to watch the fish. She shook her head.

Bethany crossed her arms and stuck out her lower lip. "I can take care of myself, you know. I'm a mage."

She had forgotten. Bethany so seldom used her magic, Aveline had easily forgotten the girl had magic. She peered across the fire at the girl. Her wavy chocolate brown hair lay loosely on her shoulders. It was ratted in the back and a smudge of dirt was on her chin. Aveline resisted the urge to wipe it away. She clenched her hands into fists and tightened her jaw. Memories of Wesley still came to her every night as she dreamed. She felt the loss of her husband like a sharp wound in the heart that couldn't, wouldn't, heal. But that had been nearly four months ago. She had buried the guilt deep enough by now that she only felt it when she slept.

But there was a bigger problem she was worried about. Her reactions to Bethany scared her. She had never felt this way about another woman before. It made her feel more guilty than if Bethany were a man. It made her feel like she was betraying Wesley in a way simply moving on wouldn't have.

She noticed Bethany staring at her, waiting for a response. "Go ahead, if you like. But don't wander too far. Scream or something if you need help."

Aveline was rewarded with a bright smile from the mage-girl. "I'll be careful, Aveline!" Bethany called out as she dashed towards the forest, eager to help.

Aveline didn't have to wait long before Bethany returned with a skirt full of mushrooms and a few thin sticks. She concentrated on piercing enough of the thick stubby mushrooms onto the sticks and didn't even see her sister and Tristan walking towards them.

"Well, hello to you too, Sister dear," Hawke whispered. She had bent low next to Bethany's ear without her noticing.

Bethany let out a short squeak of surprise and dropped a mushroom. "Mar! Why in Thedas would you sneak up on me like that?" she exclaimed.

Hawke shrugged. "Food smells good. Is it almost ready?" Her belly let out a low grumble and she frowned. Plopping down next to her sister, she swiped the mushroom off the ground and popped it in her mouth. She let out a small, satisfied sigh and smiled.

Bethany shook her head at her sister and playfully smacked her on the leg. "Wait until it's cooked, Mar."

Mar stuck her tongue out, causing Bethany to laugh. "Feed me," she whined.

Bethany shook her head firmly, smiling the whole time. "No."

"Feed me!" Mar cried out dramatically. She clutched at her stomach with one hand and threw the other across her forehead.

Bethany covered her mouth and giggled. "Be patient!"

Mar flopped onto her back, laying her head in her sisters lap. "Feed me!" she wailed, covering her eyes with her left hand.

Bethany covered her sister's mouth with one hand and laughed harder. "Mar, stop it! You're being ridiculous. Let me at least cook the mushrooms first," she replied with a smile.

Mar pushed her sister's hand a side and stuck her lower lip out. "You're a horrible sister, starving me so. "

Beth rolled her eyes. "Maker forbid you wait like the rest of us," she quipped.

Tristan watched the scene with a sad smile. These girls were so happy. So free. But he had a job to do. He closed his eyes as he sat down beside the group. He leaned his head back towards the sky and whispered a prayer to the Maker. He prayed that the two mages would cooperate with his mission. He prayed he didn't need to resort to violence, this time. He prayed no one would die, be they mage or not. But he feared that he was praying in vain.


	7. Chapter 7

Tristan leaned against the rocks, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. His eyes closed and he felt the warmth of the sun against his skin. Specks of salt water splashed against his cheeks, droplets clinging to his stubble. Seagulls cried out and a sense of peace and calm enveloped him.

He recounted the Chant of Light in his head, repeating the Maker's words as a promise, both to himself and to those he lost.  _Submit yourselves therefore to the Maker. Resist the demons, and they will flee from you._ The words flowed naturally in his mind, as second nature to him as breathing. They were a part of him, and they filled him with Faith when the darkness in his heart threatened to overwhelm him.

A noisy sigh came from his left and he suppressed a smile. "What are you doing?" a voice asked.

He opened one eye and glanced at Mar before closing it again. "Meditating, amiga."

Mar snorted loudly, a rude sound from such a petite girl. "Boring. This whole island is boring. Aveline won't let me help with the hut. Says I keep getting in the way. S'not my fault. It'd be more fun if could use my magic," she complained.

Tristan frowned and opened his eyes. "You find your magic… fun?" he questioned, caught between incredulity and curiosity.

Mar shrugged and hugged her knees to her chest. "The Maker gave me this gift, didn't he? Why shouldn't it be fun? It's not like I'm hurting anyone with it," she replied defiantly.

Images of his sister, Piper, sprawled out, blood surrounding her as cloaked mad-men chanted ancient words of demon-worship. Her cries of pain as life left her. The mad glee in the mages eyes as they used her blood, her life force, to attack him. He struggled to maintain composure of his face, not wanting to give away the dark emotions that clouded his mind and heart.

"Magic exists to serve man-" he began.

Maurevar cut him off. "But never to rule over him," she finished, her tone mocking. "Yea, I know. And I don't care. The Chant probably got loads of stuff wrong, how do we know? If Andraste were still alive, we could just ask her. But she isn't and the Maker is silent and we have to figure this shit out on our own. Well, my gut tells me there isn't anything wrong with having magic, so long as I'm not harming anyone," she continued stubbornly, meeting Tristan's gaze fiercely.

Tristan smirked and rubbed his chin. "Oh really? That is all there is to it? Do no harm and everything else is okay, no?"

Mar nodded. "See? You get it."

He sighed and shook his head. "Nothing is that simple, Maurevar. If you use your magic on frivolous or silly things, you are wasting the Maker's gift."

"So what if I am? Not like the blasted Maker ever did anything for me anyway," she replied petulantly.

Tristan quickly crossed his heart and whispered something under his breath. Mar rolled her eyes at his reaction. "You're as bad as Ruber was," she muttered.

He raised a brow. "Ruber?" he asked.

Mar shrugged and got to her feet. "Never mind. He was nobody. I'm going to go pick berries or something."

Tristan scrambled to his feet and grabbed her wrist. "I'll come with you," he said quickly. He didn't want to let her out of his sight, not if she was prone to such flippant magic use. He needed to do his duty as a Seeker and watch for any signs of danger in the Hawke sisters.

Mar grinned as she looked into his eyes. "So eager to be near me, hm?" she asked slyly.

Tristan chuckled. "Of course, amiga."

She smiled again, only this time it was a real smile. It lit up her whole face, making even her green eyes seem to glow a little. Bits of her bangs hung across her forehead and a leaf poked out from the side of her hair. He grinned and reached forward, grabbing the foliage and tossing it casually to the ground.

Mar looked up at him, suddenly nervous. She was usually pretty comfortable around people, even men, but Tristan was different, somehow. Maybe it was because he seemed like he was much older than she was? Or was it his eyes, the way they seemed to bore into her soul.

Tristan's smile slipped as he noticed the way Maurevar was looking at him. He cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Lead the way, Maurevar," he said smoothly, not betraying his inner thoughts as Mar blushed and turned around.

As they walked through the forest, Tristan's thoughts were on Mar, though not in the way the girl probably wanted. He had to maintain distance. If he got too close, he might forget what his mission was. And he couldn't make that mistake again. It cost too many lives, last time.

More images of Piper flashed in his mind. It had been his fault she died, ultimately, and he couldn't allow more innocent lives to be taken. So he had to keep his mind focused on the Divine's orders.

Which would be easy enough on his part. Maurevar was pretty enough but much younger. And even though she had a good sense of humor, she was casual with her magic. The charming way the lass smiled at his jokes wouldn't be able to move him, he assured himself silently.

Mar idly picked at some small, dark red berries that hung from vines. Her mind was flittering between their unfortunate situation and Tristan's eyes.

She popped a berry in her mouth and the tart flavor burst on her tongue, followed by a slightly bitter after taste. Her thoughts drifted towards Bethany and she wondered why she hadn't followed her. Mar was used to Bethany following her everywhere, even when she and Carver would fight.

But now, Bethany hung around that Aveline too much. Maybe Beth didn't think her sister could protect her, if she couldn't use her magic as freely? She popped a few more berries in her mouth as she pondered this.

"Amiga? What are you doing?" Tristan asked, a worried frown on his face.

Mar had leaned against a tree, overcome with dizziness. Her face was drained of colour and contorted in pain as she clutched her stomach.

"It hurts," she cried.

Tristan walked over and looked at the blood red berries, still in her hand, and sighed. "Those are poisonous," he said dryly.

Mar let out a slight whimper and clutched the tree. "I need my sister," she said, trying to catch her breath.

Tristan reached into his chest pocket and grabbed a bundle of leaves. "Eat these, and you will be fine, no?"

Mar grabbed the leaves and stuffed them in her mouth, trying not to gag over the rancid flavor. "Wherediyewgifthese?" she asked, mouth full of partially chewed elfroot.

Tristan chuckled and ruffled her hair, making her frown. "I gathered them before my meditation."

Mar swallowed, and slowly began feeling better as the herbs began to work. She glanced up into Tristan's eyes and was again memorized by their darkness. He hurriedly looked away and walked over to a bush covered in light blue colored berries.

"Here, amiga. Eat these, they are not poisonous," he said, grabbing a small handful and eating them.

Mar just stared at him, curious why he had turned away so quickly. Tristan cleared his throat and refused to take his attention away from the berry picking. He wasn't exactly avoiding her gaze, but...

A scream shattered the tense silence. Mar recognized the sound as Bethany and her eyes widened in fear. She didn't even give Tristan a chance to say or do anything. She turned quickly on her heel and took off running in the direction of the noise.

 

~*~*~

 

Pain shot it's way through her foot as Bethany lay crumpled in the sand. Her entire leg felt like it was on fire and she could barely breathe past the pain. Aveline bent over her, face pinched with worry, and she could hear her sister shouting her name from nearby.

"Beth! Bethany!" Mar called, kneeling down next to her sister.

Aveline glanced over at Tristan, who had been running close behind Hawke. "She was walking along the water's edge when she stepped on a jellyfish. It stung her pretty badly," she explained, cradling Bethany's head in her lap.

"Shit," Mar swore softly.

Aveline frowned. "She's a Healer, I thought. Can't she just heal herself?"

Mar glared up at the warrior woman. "Not if she's in this much pain," she snapped.

Tristan knelt down and looked at the foot in question. It was covered in angry red welts that twisted and trailed up the ankle. He grabbed his flask and emptied it of water before filling it up with saltwater from the ocean. "Amiga, hear, warm this with your magic," he said and handed it to Maurevar. Looking at Bethany, he spoke again. "You must stay calm. There is venom that will spread faster if you move too much."

Bethany clutched at Aveline's hand and nodded, biting her lip to keep from moving. The pain was intense and made it hard to see or concentrate on anything. Aveline smoothed the hair from her head and Bethany tried to focus on her, instead. She kept her eyes trained on the line of freckles that covered Aveline's nose, and kept her mind oo breathing slowly, in and out.

Tristan took the warm water from Maurevar and poured it over the burn, easing some of the pain. Then he took a small dagger from his pocket, a tiny one with a jewelled hilt, and began scraping at the skin.

Bethany let out an ear-piercing scream and Aveline struggled to hold her still as Tristan scraped the remaining tentacles from the skin, and Mar had to look away.

As the pain washed over her body in scalding hot waves, Bethany looked up into Aveline's dark green eyes. The warrior woman stared down at her, her orange-coloured hair falling loose around her face. Her brow were furrowed in concern and Bethany tried to focus all her attention on that, on anything but the pain in her foot and ankle.

Tristan set down the knife, having cleared the area of the venom filled tentacles. "There, corderito, the worst is over," he murmured.

Bethany closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. There was still pain, but it was becoming more manageable as her body became accustomed to it. "Maker's breath, but I'm never stepping foot in the ocean again," she whispered and attempted a weak smile.

Aveline scowled down at her. "You shouldn't have taken such a risk in the first place, Bethany," she said, voice firm and chastizing.

Mar turned, glancing between the two. "Well, maybe you should have watched her better," she grumbled.

Aveline glared at Hawke, brows knitted tightly together. "I should have? She's your sister, where in the flames were you, Hawke?"

Bethany frowned and struggled to sit up. "Watch me? What am I, five?" she asked and Tristan had to struggle to hold back his laughter.

"Yes, watch you. Just look what happened! You scared me near to death!" Mar exclaimed, crossing her arms around her knees and glaring at her sister through her hair.

Bethany crossed her arms over her chest and glared back at her sister. "Scared you, did I? What about all the times you scared us, sister? The times you'd run off with some boy from a nearby village and disappear for a whole day or two? Or when you'd practice your magic with Templars nearby, just to provoke Carver? I may be the younger sibling, but you've never acted the part of being the elder!" she said, voice full of more anger than she had realized. Bethany hadn't thought about it before, but in that moment, she realized she blamed her sister for Carver's disappearance.

Mar's eyes widened in shock at Bethany's words. She had never heard her sister raise her voice to anyone before. "Beth, I-"

Bethany cut her off with a wave of her hand. "No, don't. We shouldn't argue, not now. Just leave it," she said with a sigh. She looked over at Aveline. "Can you help me over away from the water? I'm not sure I can walk proper right now."

Aveline nodded and picked her up, causing Bethany to squeak in surprise. "You needn't carry me!" she said.

Aveline just grunted and walked over to where their lean-to was, placing her gently on the ground when they arrived.

Mar stared after them for a moment, heart racing. Abruptly, she got to her feet and stormed off towards the woods. Tristan hesitated a moment before following.

"Maurevar… Amiga, wait, you shouldn't wander alone," he called out, caught between frustration and concern.

Mar picked up her pace a bit, almost running until she tripped over a tree root and landed on her face. "Shit," she swore softly, rubbing the scrape on her knee.

Tristan stood over her, dark and imposing. She shivered while staring up at him, her bright green eyes shining. "Why'd you follow me?"

He shrugged and knelt down beside her. "We should keep to pairs, at least. Walking alone in an unfamiliar area is asking for trouble."

It was her turn to shrug as fiddled with a twig. "Maybe I like trouble," she replied stubbornly.

He snorted rudely. "From what your sister says, that much is true enough."

She grinned at him. "Jealous?" she said and he rolled his eyes.

"Of a child's lustful fancies? Hardly."

She frowned and folded her arms over her chest. "I am not a child! And it was love, I'll have you know."

He raised an eyebrow at her and smirked, settling back against a tree. "Do you even know the difference between love and lust, amiga?"

She stuck her chin out defiantly. "What's the difference? I wanted them, which is the same thing."

He let out a short and bitter laugh. "That is an incredibly selfish way to look at it."

"You sound like Carver," she groused, fidgeting with her short hair.

Tristan's dark eyes gleamed as he looked at Maurevar. He propped himself up so that he was leaning over her, barely inches from her face. Her eyes widened and her pupils dilated, lips slightly parted. He moved closer, bringing his lips close to her ear.

"Lust is wanting a person's body, wanting to consume a person with touch and passion," he whispered, causing her to shiver. "Love is wanting another person's happiness before your own, wanting them to shake with release even if you're left wanting."

He brought his hand up, almost touching, so close that Maurevar moved to get closer. He chuckled and shifted away, allowing no contact. "This feeling you have is what they call lust, Maurevar. I can see it in your eyes," he continued.

His eyes met hers and she wet her lips with her tongue. He swallowed, suddenly overcome with the desire to kiss her. He brought his lips closer, and she closed her eyes, waiting. They were so close their breaths mingled in the warm air.

He pulled back abruptly and her eyes flew open. He got to his feet and ran his fingers through his long black hair, trying to collect his thoughts. He couldn't afford to get too involved with this girl. She was a mage and he was a Seeker. He couldn't afford to lust over his target.

"Tristan?" she murmured, still sitting on the forest floor with a look that mingled confusion and desire on her face.

He shook his head and refused to meet her eyes. "We should get back to the others, amiga. With Bethany injured, it will be left to the three of us to hunt and gather food."

Before he had finished speaking he was already walking back towards camp, leaving Mar to either follow or get left behind.

She followed.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Darkness surrounded him, closing in on him from all sides. It sucked the air from his lungs as his hands clutched at nothing. His knees hit the cobbled street of his home country as he tried to scream into the eerily still space. But no sound escaped his weary lips.

_Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light._

With each word recited in his heart, the darkness shrink ed back, as if burned by mere thought.

_Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond._  

He stood, back rigid, as he fought the witch's hold. 

_For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost._  

A whisper slithered in his ear. "I will have you yet, my Seeker pet." 

He held back a shiver. "Your power cannot touch the Maker's Light, mage," he replied, voice full of faith and certainty. 

"But what of his shadow?" and the question caused his stomach to clench. 

A cool hand touched his face and he awoke with a start. Even after all this time, the witch still hounded his dreams. At least she only saw him when he was sleeping. 

"Tristan? You were thrashing in your sleep." 

Tristan looked over into Bethany's deep brown eyes, an eyebrow raised.

"Ah, and here I thought you cared not at all," he replied, a ready grin in place.

She frowned, leaning back to curl her legs and skirt beneath her. "We all need to be... well in order for us to survive this," she replied, relaxing her face. "And, I _do_ think you're hiding something." 

He was surprised by her boldness. The girl seemed to have some of her father's famed spirit in her after all. He wondered what else she inherited from her father. 

"Is he bothering you, Bethany?" Aveline asked, poking her head inside the lean-to, a scowl etched across her face. 

A soft smile lit across the mage's face. "No, Aveline, but I suppose he is a bit of bother, over all," was her quick reply, causing Tristan to frown. 

"Perhaps I shall take my leave for the moment, yes?" 

Bethany shrugged, her rounded shoulders slipping free from her worn blouse. "If you see that sister of mine, mind she doesn't eat anything poisonous." A strange look crossed her face. "Or rather, that she hasn't been eaten." 

Tristan chuckled, earning him another scowl from them both. "Ah, yes, of course. I shall go fetch the wayward mage from her lonely misadventures." 

Aveline settled down next to Bethany, handing the girl a cloth with berries. Her fingers danced across her empty scabbard as she eyed him warily. "You talk strange for a sailor, don't think I haven't noticed," she said, and her voice held a warning. 

Tristan bowed low. "I speak no different from any sailor with a little education, is all, Valiente." He turned and quickly walked away from their prying comments. 

If they found out who he was... what his purpose was... 

No, he would just have to be more careful. 

_Maker, sustain me._  

Piper had always said he lacked the skill at blending in with the common people. Said he was a Chantry-boy, so he'd never fit in right.  

"Hey, come look at this!" 

Tristan spun around, spotting Maurevar under a nearby tree. Her eyes sparkled as she stared up at something Tristan could not see. He made his way over to her, eyes fixated on the hair cut close to the nape of her neck. _It was just long_ _enough for...._  

He shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts. She was a _mage_ and he was on a mission. This was no place for indulging in lust-filled fantasies. No matter how long it'd been since he last held a woman. 

He rubbed his hand across his stubble as he approached Maurevar. 

"What do you think it is?" she asked, awe in her voice. 

He stared at her, one eyebrow raised at her wide-eyed look. "It is a monkey, amiga." 

"Monkey. Monnnkeeey. MonKEY. Hey, you, monkey!" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth and bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

Tristan hastily clasped a hand over her mouth. "hush, amiga. As cute as you seem to find them, they are a rather... disgusting creature," he said, lip curled up at offending animal. 

Suddenly, Maurevar was pressed tight against him as she wiggled backwards. He jerked away from the sensation, a jolt of unwanted fire spreading through him. 

_Maker, but it had been far too long,_ he thought as he groaned inwardly. 

"What does that word mean again?" she asked, stepping closer. 

"Friend," he supplied, eyeing her warily as he hardened at her nearness. His heart was thumping wildly, though not for the reasons he knew the mageling wanted. 

Her lips formed a cute pout. "Is that all you see me as, then?" she asked, pressing her breasts against his arm. 

He frowned down at her even as he strained against his tattered trousers. _Damnable woman._ "Stop that. It is unwise to court that which you do not know," he rumbled, annoyed. 

"I'm not a child and I know what I want," she replied, stubborn as ever. 

He growled as he reached forward, hands gripping her arms so tightly he knew they would leave bruises later. He lowered his lips to hers too quickly for her to respond, though she pushed lightly against his chest before relenting. He crushed her against himself and moaned at how perfectly she melded to his body. He nipped her lower lip, nearly losing control when she moaned into his mouth. 

He shoved her away, blood pounding through his veins. The kiss had meant to scare her away but all it had done was worsen his own condition. Her lips were swollen, her eyelids heavy. "You didn't have to stop on my account," she whispered, voice deeper than it had been a moment ago. 

He licked his lips, his resolve weakening. "We shouldn't," he warned. 

"I don't care," she replied. 

He groaned as his control shattered. He grabbed her again, crushing her lips with his own as he backed her against the tree. He lifted her so that her butt was nestled in his hands. He squeezed it hard as he nibbled his way down her neck. 

His stubble left red marks against her skin which he greedily licked and nibbled on until she was writhing in his arms and calling for more. 

Her fingers were tangled in his hair as he pressed himself as close as he would allow. He kept their clothes on as he ground against her, pushing her back against the trunk of the tree. 

"More," she whispered, and it took everything he had not to oblige her wish. 

His teeth sank lightly into her shoulder as he moved against her, a steady motion that soon had them both groaning as pleasure spiked through them. 

"Tristan," she his his name as she climaxed against him. 

He twitched as he felt her body stiffen before relaxing onto his chest.

_That was a terrible idea,_ a voice whispered in his head.

He sighed, disentangling himself from the mage. Without a word, he walked away toward the salt water of the sea, hoping it would cleanse him in more ways than one.  

He slipped through the shadows of the trees, head heavy with thoughts. Had he failed his mission, again? 

"Maker, forgive me," he whispered to the sky.


End file.
